I wondered whether her tits would stop growing, or if they’d keep going, like the fingernails and the hair of dead people in coffins. I shuddered. M... wife was gone, but she wasn’t dead. Was she still inside there? Watching me? Judging me?Best not to dwell. I’d never know.Fuck it. I promised I’d take care of her. I knew what I had to do. It was my turn, now.I breathed deeply, deeply, as deeply as I could, drawing the strawberry smell into myself. I relaxed into it. It was okay, now. She was. ... but a seed had been planted and I think I wanted her to catch me beating one out, just to see what happened. The next day Lisa and I were on earlies and both returned home and sat in the well-tended and mature garden Mrs. G had planted. There were some garments on the washing line and amongst them were a matching set of bra and knickers. They were brown and transparent with golden embroidery. I loved them and asked Lisa why I didn't ever see her wearing them. She said that they were her. More

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